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PLEASE NOTE: The Reality TV World Message Boards are filled with desperate
attention-seekers pretending to be one big happy PG/PG13-rated family. Don't
be fooled. Trying to get everyone to agree with you is like herding cats,
but intolerance for other viewpoints is NOT welcome and respect for other
posters IS required at all times. Jump in and play, and you'll soon find out
how easy it is to fit in, but save your drama for your mama. All members are
encouraged to read the
complete guidelines.
As entertainment critic Roger
Ebert once said, "If you disagree with something I write, tell me so, argue
with me, correct me--but don't tell me to shut up. That's not the American way."
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"WSC3(FV) Breed"
Superman 3152 desperate attention whore postings
DAW Level: "Car Show Celebrity"
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01-06-04, 01:36 PM (EST)
 
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"WSC3(FV) Breed" |
Why the hell are the children all laying naked
in a heap, in the corner, swollen and crying
for a morsel of a pinch of something to eat
yet, the parrot is so obese that he can reach his stoop
even though everything he mutters is trite and conceited
and senseless to anyone who even tries to decipher his
idiotic, feather brained prophesies and you know this
can't be healthy for him to be rewarded each time
his ill obtained knowledge from the paper beneath him
with all those shit interrupted syllables and the piss laced
headlines spills out of his fat, bloated beak And I think the baby's dead on the bottom,
unlucky as she always was to just be in the wrong place
when the rest of them fell, boney and famished, unloved
and unclean in the furthermost corner from that
bent-bottomed cage, because they just couldn't bear to see one more uneaten
Ritz going to waste just beyond the reach of their tiny fingers
through bars that couldn't have been much weaker than the
bones that line their knuckles and the fingertips
that gnash the bits of cartilage
underneath their eyes that are fading so fast
that they stopped trying to see beyond the length of their elbows
much less down enough to notice their sister
has cooed her last breath How many times must I come home to this
when all that I want is one tiny hug from one tiny child
with love in their eyes and milk on their breath
and be able to see meat on their bones instead of welts
on their skin and hollowed out cheeks
and then maybe I'd dream at night of board games and Sunday dinners
instead of Sally Struthers soiling scenes
screaming that she wants a fucking cracker
and I'd wake just once, with a smile on my face
and a song in my heart, instead of chewing my nails
to the grit of the dirt that's been there
since the last time I buried them all
behind the BP Station on Highway 43 Criminals From the Neck Up
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p l a c e h o l d e r t e x t g o e s h e r e - p l a c e h o l d e r t e x t g o e s h e r e - p l a c e h o l d e r t e x t g o e s h e r e -
p l a c e h o l d e r t e x t g o e s h e r e - p l a c e h o l d e r t e x t g o e s h e r e - p l a c e h o l d e r t e x t g o e s h e r e -
p l a c e h o l d e r t e x t g o e s h e r e - p l a c e h o l d e r t e x t g o e s h e r e - p l a c e h o l d e r t e x t g o e s h e r e -
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WHEEEEEEZE!
A JSlice masterpiece